About an hour before we were supposed to go, Self slammed on the brakes. Wrenching the wheel to the left, she steered the car directly over the edge of the cliff.

I said – wait, Self!
What is happening?
Why are we driving off the cliff?
Why are we plummeting to a fiery wreck?
Why don’t we just go and order cabinets?

And Self was like– no one knows! Death before commitment!

The Acquisition Trollsaid– yup. For sure. THOSE are your kitchen cabinets.
No need to think about it.
Hurry.

Then I had to go and explain this to Paul.
Then I had to deal with Rage Paul.

And the thing about Rage Paul is that I always understand.
At first.

I understand why he is frustrated… I understand why he is irritated… I understand why he is turning green and exploding out of his clothing.

But eventually, I lose patience because I am NOT doing this to aggravate him.

This is who I am.

I am SORRY that I am engineered in the most specific way possible to make you insane. HOWEVER. What do you want me to do? As far as I know, there is no surgical option for a personality transplant.

But eventually, my understanding begins to wears thin. I begin to construct in my head, dissertations on the theme: Self has feelings too, you know.

After a while, the mental-dissertations get pretty righteous.

I start to get mad at Rage Paul. Because I ACCEPT him… But Rage Paul, does NOT accept Self.

This seems deeply unfair and it makes me want to remind Rage Paul that he chose me… He COULD have married someone else, but apparently, he WANTED this in his life. How is that my fault?

Also, I could point out that Rage Paul is just as illogical as Self… After all, Rage Paul says things like– I cannot even talk to you right now. And leaves the room. And then comes back in to talk at Self at top volume.

But I cannot say any of that. Because technically this is all my fault.

And also because I cannot make it worse… Because I need Rage Paul to agree to go and look at these bookcases.

Then I am going to need him to agree to overpay for them. Because Self BELIEVES THEM TO BE THE THING.

Although later it will be revealed that they are not the thing… and that in reality, Self was suffering delusions brought on by fear of commitment, and agitation at losing out on Giant Fancy Things, and also because Self has restraint issues and hoarding issues and a host of other avoidance-based coping skills that always make a flaming pile of mess that someone else needs to sort out because Self cannot deal with it.

As soon as we got home, Self was finished with the event and wanted to read in bed with Elvis.

A GFT acquisition is mentally tiring and requires extra time for recuperation… but even Self was aware that she needed to pretend to be ongoingly-enthusiastic, otherwise Paul’s head would explode.

We brought a bookcase into the kitchen and screwed a cleat to the wall, just below where I wanted them to hang.

Then we stood back to see what we thought.
Then we moved it to the right.
More right.
Up.
More up.
Further right.
Up more.

Then Self slunk off… scurrying away to her cave and leaving me alone to tell Paul that maybe this was a mistake.

Because it turns out that now that the bookcases are safely mine, and there is no risk someone else will hoard them, I can acknowledge that POSSIBLY my plan was flawed.

Which is ironic, because Self told me this idea would save money.

Self had claimed to be worried about the financial equation of catbaby with cancer eradicating budget for kitchen remodel.

I have no idea if Self actually had good intentions or if this was just a ploy to skirt reasonable decisions.

Standing there in the kitchen, with half a bookcase on the wall, and half in the foyer, and surrounded by the general kitchen-chaos, vacation-mess-still-not-sorted, pounds of tomatoes, and other evidence that I am failing to be organized and adult… I felt defeated.

These are ALMOST exactly what I wanted… But if I had taken more than seven seconds to really think it through, maybe I would have seen them as a representation of THE THING. Rather than the ACTUAL thing.

Why do I have to be so impulsive?
Why is ambivalence never in my emotional vocabulary?
Why am I always running forward in seven directions at once?

Why am I so good at love, hate, joy, anguish… and terrible at the part where you pay attention… and put one foot in front of the other… and not wander off to examine the bark in the indecision forest?

I was pretty sure this would be the last straw for Paul; but when I told him— I’m sorry, this was a giant mistake… He just said— okay. Where do you want to put them?

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87 Comments

I actually like them and think they tie in nicely with your piano island. I would probably go to the expense of having the hood over the stove made to match the two cabinets and then use white, grey or sage green or grey-blue finish on the other cabinets so they stand out and all of your cab- inets don’t look matchy-matchy! More importantly, though, hope Elvis is doing okay.

I think that even Rage Paul would have to respect that you can admit that the purchase may have been impulsive. I’m sorry this didn’t work out as the kitchen. But on the plus side, rockin’ bookshelves. And you really are acquiring all the amazing things.

While I like the cabinets, I don’t like them in the kitchen. I lean a little to purist and like the piano island as the show stopper with purchased cabinets otherwise. Too much mix and it’s chaos to me. If you can buy a complete Victorian kitchen and make the cabinets fit in your space sure, but the bookcases belong somewhere else. Like in my library!

Please IMMEDIATELY provide the name of the magic substance ? that you put in his coffee every morning. A bulk purchase ??? of same is on my urgent list. Love & prayers for the Awesomeness that is Elvis ?????

Victoria, Victoria, Victoria…problem is, as my husband says, you fell down on the G in Giant Fancy Things. They are simply not big enough! I’m sure you could find some fantastic craftsman to hack these cabinets – for that is now what they are – by splitting them and adding the width you need to make them as wide as your cabinets on either side of the stove. A pro could pretty much make it so they did not look pieced together. The moulding should not be too difficult to reproduce. Since you have that pretty detail in the center, cut the detail portion out, and add pieces on either side to widen the cabinets. The backs can easily be replaced – perhaps by mirror! Or, wait, you could just split it down the middle and add a new similar doodad in the new center. Perhaps your master carpenter/artist could make a mold of the decorations on the outside edges of the cabinet and match it to the other side. And either a new cap or extension of the top of the cabinet. I think the problem may be the symmetry issue. And don’t worry about kitchen gunk and the antique furniture. This stuff has lasted through oil lamps, fireplace smoke and gas lamps. Meyer’s cleaner in a little water on a cloth would make these babies shine like new. Please do not despair. I see internet research for craftsman artist woodworker in your future.

The piano island is truly a genius idea. Self is obviously a creative design force. The island is a giant fancy piece, but is also functional. THAT should be the star of the kitchen. Otherwise, Fancy Cabinets will try to grab all of the attention from Fancy Island, leaving onlookers unsure of where to cast their gaze. That’s my vote…which doesn’t really count since I don’t live there.
Please give an update on Elvis with photos.

Self has selected beautiful cabinets which appear to be The Thing. Can’t understand why they are not. Paul should be canonized for sainthood; as for Rage Paul, well, he should be tucked away in a secure location. So glad The Lobotomy is working out for Paul.

Please explain why the gorgeous bookcases are not The Thing. Surely it cannot be some pesky fact-based odious detail. It is obvious that they were meant for adoption into your home…so that you will continue to be The Envy Of All. Love to Elvis, hope she’s doing okay.